


Beware the Blue-Eyed Monster

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom!Hannibal, Idiots in Love, Jealousy, M/M, Misunderstandings, Murder, Porn, Twisted murder fluff, lots of angst and a bit of humor, murder is hard, saying I like you is harder, so much blood, these boys have poor communication skills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-12
Updated: 2016-04-16
Packaged: 2018-06-01 22:32:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6539107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hannibal suggests that he and Will start dating - but not each other. Will does not take this well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Oh My God, I Think I Like You

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WarpedChyld](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarpedChyld/gifts).



> Inspired by this prompt from WarpedChyld:  
>  _Cliche prompts? My cold dead heart pounced on Misunderstandings that lead to love confessions & Green-eyed monster forces a confrontation like starving lions on a bewildered wildebeest and please? :3 If you are so inclined._

Will needed to get his mind off Hannibal’s ass.

The doctor was in the process of removing a liver when Will realized he’d been staring. He was supposed to be coiling the intestines into a floral design, but Will couldn’t force his eyes away from the round globes in front of him. The empath toyed with the idea of giving Hannibal a firm slap, leaving a bloody handprint on the plastic suit that the fussy cannibal still insisted on wearing to every kill.

_Silly prissy bastard. Look at that dumb bubble butt. He must do a lot of squats. Would it jiggle if I hit it right?_

“Will? Is there a problem with the intestines? Should we modify the design?” Will blinked. Hannibal had turned to face him, liver in one hand, scalpel gracefully poised in the other.

_Shit. Cover your shame, Graham._

Using the slick loops of their victim’s gut to hide his crotch, Will met Hannibal’s eyes.

“No. No, I’m fine. I just got distracted by the squeaking. Do you have to wear that murder condom every time we do this?”

Hannibal’s mouth twitched; it passed for a smile.

“I suppose I could forego the suit, if you’d like,” the cannibal bent to store the liver in their cooler. The movement gave Will a chance to admire the bend and swell of his partner again. “Is it really that much more appealing to experience viscera in synthetic flannel and $5 Goodwill khakis?”

Will snorted and flicked the end of the small intestines at Hannibal, smattering the doctor’s chest with foul-smelling goo.

“Childish.”

“Because it’s so mature to make fun of my clothes,” Will muttered before resuming his coiling, twisting the guts a bit more forcefully than necessary. “Fucking asshole, always so goddamn detached from everything.”

He heard a plastic squeak right behind him. When had Hannibal gotten so close?

“Do you long for the visceral thrill we felt when slaying the dragon, Will?” Hannibal’s breath pushed the words into Will’s ear, the soft penetration sent a surge of blood to the empath’s cock. The sudden lack of oxygen in his brain made Will’s ears buzz. “To truly recreate it, I should shed my plastic coverings and you your tattered rags. We should pay tribute to dear Francis by killing naked in the moonlight, don’t you think?”

Oh god, Will was going to come in his pants while holding intestines.

“You want to kill naked?” Will’s arousal seemed to strangle the words out of him.

“I enjoy blood in the moonlight, shall we shed these vestiges of society and revel?”

Will swallowed thickly. He was too hard to make a rational choice right now. He wanted a shower and an orgasm before he made any decisions involving Hannibal and his perfect plastic covered ass. Impulsivity is what hurled them over the cliff, and Will had promised himself he wouldn’t do anything so foolish again.

“Next time.” Something in shifted in the room. Cool air rushed to fill the void Hannibal left by Will’s ear.

“Of course, whenever you wish, Will.” Hannibal retreated, squeaking as he made his way back to the open body before them. Will resumed his intestinal artwork, thinking about Chilton’s melted face to drive the blood out of his crotch.

* * *

A week later, Will was still jerking off to scenarios that involved using his teeth to peel Hannibal out of his murder suit. The empath found his newfound bisexuality to be less troubling than the idea of hitting on Hannibal. He knew the spark was there, but he had to find a way to fan the flame without immolating them both. They killed together, patched each other up, spent countless hours debating philosophy, feasted on lavish meals Hannibal created, and gleefully watched news reports that featured an increasingly harried looking Jack Crawford. It was as close to domestic bliss as Will had ever been.

Would adding a few blow jobs really be that hard?

Will followed the harpsichord music to their living room, where he found Hannibal blithely playing a concerto. Will hovered in the doorway, running scenarios in his head.

_Hey Hannibal, when Bedelia said you loved me, I never found out if she meant we were just murder bros or if I could bend you over the settee whenever the mood strikes. Could you clarify that?_

_I know tonight is technically the night we listen to opera and read, but how about we switch up our routine? Mutual Masturbation Monday has a ring to it, don’t you think?_

_Ok, so I thought I liked you, but I think I actually like like you. Any thoughts on that?_

Fuck, being gutted was less painful than this.

The music stopped.

“I always love an audience, but it seems my playing is putting you off,” Hannibal’s eyes dissected the empath and Will fought not to flinch and flee the room.

“Sorry, it’s beautiful. I just, I guess I wanted to ask you something.”

Hannibal folded his hands in his lap, devoting his full attention to Will, who was still attempting to meld into the doorjamb. 

“Is the question so horrible that you must skulk behind the door? You don’t wish to tell me you dislike my cooking, do you?” Hannibal’s eyes warmed and Will huffed out a laugh, finally committing to entering the room.

“It’s just an awkward conversation.” Will shuffled into the room slowly. “We’ve been alone for a year, and I mean, don’t you ever miss it?”

“Miss what, Will? Do you wish to go out? Perhaps the theater?” There was something flickering behind Hannibal’s eyes, lightning contained behind the maroon orbs. It hit Will that this territory wasn’t just embarrassing, it was dangerous.

“Are you seriously going to make me say this?” Will lifted his eyes in time to watch seemingly every muscle in Hannibal’s body still. “Come on, Dr. Lecter. I was married to Molly, you were married to Bedelia. Don’t you…miss company? It’s been over a year for me and, what, about 4 for you? We’ve both had quite the dry spell.”

The corner of Hannibal’s mouth twitched, the ghost of a snarl giving Will a glimpse at sharp teeth. Panic rose in Will’s throat, though he couldn’t quite name the reason. In an instant, Hannibal’s whole face shut down. His features were schooled to a terrifying neutral while his eyes grew empty and dull. Will felt his heart hammer erratically as he watched the doctor’s seemingly hollow people suit. He knew from experience that this type of retreat meant Hannibal was weighing something, likely a decision that would end with someone hemorrhaging.

When Hannibal launched himself forward, Will nearly screamed. He flinched as the cannibal marched by him.

“I’m terribly sorry I’ve been keeping you cloistered, Will. It wasn’t my intention to make you so miserable. Since I’ve yet to make dinner, why don’t you take tonight and go seek company?” Hannibal was two steps out of the room before he paused. “I suppose I should venture forth, too. Shall I expect you home for breakfast?”

Will knew his mouth was open, but he couldn’t remember how to form words.

“I’m sorry, that was presumptuous. You have my number, please call me if I’m to expect you for dinner tomorrow night.” Hannibal was gone before Will’s brain put out the small fires that seemed to be raging at his temples.

What the fuck just happened? Had he convinced Hannibal Lecter to go get laid? Will ran the conversation back through his head. Maybe he should have gone with the Mutual Masturbation Monday line. This result was only marginally better than the time he tried to convince Hannibal to run from the FBI and had ended up getting everyone he loved stabbed or defenestrated.

Will unfroze from his horrified reverie when he heard Hannibal’s sure footsteps in the foyer. A jingle of car keys, a loud thunk from their front door, and Hannibal was gone. The car peeled out of the driveway before Will could even reach the hall. He pulled out his phone and hit the only saved contact. O Fortuna began playing to his left and he turned to find Hannibal’s cell phone vibrating across their side table.

_Fuck._

He debated giving chase, but Cartagena had too many bars to make an educated guess as to where the doctor was heading. Even if he did track down Hannibal, a noisy public display was probably not the smartest idea for two fugitives. He’d wait until Hannibal got home, and try again.

Bereft of his usual company, Will went about his routine feeling as if a crucial piece was missing. He opened a bottle of wine, selected an opera, and rummaged in the kitchen for leftovers. He ate an accountant cassoulet cold, forking bites of meat and vegetables directly from the container. He considered it his small rebellion against Hannibal and his prissy rules about food. He thought about forgoing a coaster when he brought his wine into the living room, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to risk such an affront to Hannibal.

Two operas, a bottle of wine, and a glass of whiskey later, Will was still alone and the sun was beginning to rise. He wasn’t sure if the nausea he felt was from the mixture of liquor and cassoulet rumbling in his stomach or the fact that Hannibal still hadn’t come home. Will was sure of one thing: He was feeling anger. Fuck Hannibal and his stupid ass and high cheekbones. Will had offered him a rare gift and – _oh shit, this was how people got gutted in kitchens._ Will curled his mouth into a rueful smile, looks like his monster had more in common with Hannibal’s monster than the empath had previously guessed. 

With a woozy head and a heavy heart, Will headed toward his room. His steps echoed mournfully in the empty house.


	2. Checking Out the Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hannibal has been MIA for a week. Will can't take it anymore.

Will was in the Twilight Zone. For a week, he barely saw Hannibal, who was either out all night or stumbling through the door at 4 am. Gelled hair and three-piece suits were replaced by tousled locks that fell over his eyes, jeans and button down shirts. On the eighth day of his personal hell, Will found Hannibal in the kitchen with three days’ worth of beard growth and a hickey peeking out from his collar.

“Ok, what the fuck is going on with you?”

“What?”

“You look…I don’t know…like a person? It’s weird.”

_It’s also hot as fuck. I bet you’d look great in my old Ramones t-shirt._

Hannibal offered a wide, toothy grin.

“Do you not approve? A friend told me I would be more approachable if I somewhat relaxed my appearance.”

“Does that include glitter on your face?” Will reached out and picked at a few flecks that caught the light. Hannibal chuckled lightly.

“No, I assure you, that just transferred from my friend. I thought I had rid myself of it in the shower. Thank you Will.”

“Hannibal-”

“Oh! Before I forget, I’ll be out again tonight. There is a pastitsio in the fridge. I have left cooking instructions on it, in case you plan on being home.”

Will nodded and watched as his casual wear cannibal left the kitchen.

* * *

When Hannibal pulled up to the valet at Sofitel Legend Santa Clara, Will drove by and parked in an alley. He couldn’t take another night of leftovers and pining for a man who apparently had a girlfriend. He had to see this glitter bomb and finally accept that Hannibal wasn’t interested in him.

The bar connected to the hotel was dimly lit and pumping electronic music. It didn’t seem like a Hannibal place, but maybe the girl liked it here. He searched for Hannibal among the crowd. When he finally spotted the doctor, Will gasped.

Hannibal Lecter was sitting at a table with a boy who couldn’t be more than 20. The boy was short and skinny, with big blue eyes and a mop of unruly brown curls. Will felt a cold rage creep into his head. He was going to kill Hannibal. Slowly. 

_You motherfucker._

He watched as Hannibal smiled fondly at the young man, who was currently pouting prettily and running his foot up and down the doctor’s leg. Hannibal looked up, as if he could sense the seething scowl aimed at him. Will ducked behind a group of men and then headed for the bar. Settling atop a stool with a torn seat, Will signaled the bartender and ordered a whiskey. He glared daggers into the back of Hannibal’s head.

Will fell into a cycle by the bar: He stared at the back of Hannibal’s head, trying to make it explode. When Hannibal looked up, Will would duck behind the bar menu or spin to face the bar, watching in the mirrored wall as the cannibal shrugged and resumed plucking at the curls of the young man, practically purring.

_Well if I had known he wanted to run a daycare…_

Hannibal turned sharply in Will’s direction. The empath hunched his shoulders and turned to glare at the worn wood of the bar. He used his nail to trace the stain left by an un-coastered glass, praying that Hannibal hadn’t spotted him among the patrons. After a 15 agonizing minutes, Will chanced a glance into the bar mirror. Hannibal was back to babysitting.

“Buy me a drink.” Will turned away from Hannibal and the fetus he was plying with liquor. A dark haired woman was standing to his right. In her late 30s and dressed in an outfit that Hannibal would have adored, she was the exact type of woman that Will would have given his right arm to date back in Wolf Trap. Now, she was just blocking his view of his competition. The woman offered Will a wry smile and gestured to the bar. 

“I..Oh, I’m not…you’re lovely and all, it’s just…”

“Look, Mata Hari, that man you’re mooning over has noticed you staring. If you want to save this little reconnaissance mission I suggest you buy me a drink and we move over to that table where you can assure me that I’m not making a huge mistake by saving your ass.”

Will felt his face grow hot.

“Thank you…I’m Will.”

“Hi Will, I’m a vodka gimlet until you convince me you’re not a crazy stalker.”

The woman left the bar and headed to a corner table. The spot was dark and quiet, offering a clear visual of Hannibal and his child bride. Will ordered his new friend’s drink, a plate of arepas, and another double whiskey. He watched Hannibal’s boy toy ruffle Hannibal’s hair as he waited for the order, bile rising in his throat.

“He’s clearly got a type.” Vodka Gimlet nodded toward the boy Hannibal was currently petting. She took a bite of an arepa as she considered the couple.

“Toddlers?”

“You know, bitterness isn’t nearly as cute as you seem to think it is. He’s obviously acting out right now.”

Will snorted.

“Trust me, this isn’t him acting out.”

Will watched in horror as the child popped something fried and dripping with grease into Hannibal’s mouth. Instead of spitting it out and immediately snapping the boy’s neck, Hannibal swallowed and smiled.

“Easy there, Will.”

The empath looked down and noted that he was clutching the knife from his place setting. He released his fingers and the knife fell to the table with a dull thud. 

“That poor kid’s been talking at him for an hour. Your man has been politely nodding and glancing at his watch for 45 minutes. Then you come through the door and suddenly baby face is fascinating.”

“Really? Wait. You’ve been watching him for an hour?”

“Where else am I going to look? It’s pretty dead in here tonight. I was about to head over there and make a move myself, but the preschooler got there first.”

Will stiffened and glared at her.

“Calm down, I didn’t realize he had a husband.”

“We’re not technically together.”

The woman laughed, a light musical sound in the din of the bar.

“Do either of you know that?” 

“Clearly he does.” Will gestured toward Hannibal who was petting his date’s hand and gazing dreamily into his eyes. Will felt sick. 

“Are you a fighter, Will?”

“What?”

“It’s ok if you’re not, some people just don’t have that killer instinct.” The woman sipped at her drink.

Will drained his whiskey and smiled.

“No one’s ever questioned my killer instinct before.”

“Well, it’s ok if you don’t have one, not everyone does.” She bit into another arepa. “But If I were in your shoes. I’d go home and wait for him. Then, I’d make it so it was impossible for him to walk away again. He’d have to limp.”

“You’re suggesting I hobble him?” Will asked, eyes dancing.

“Oh honey, I don’t know what you’re into. What you two do once you get him alone is between you and god.” They both laughed this time.

“Thanks for the advice, Vodka Gimlet,” Will got up and threw some bills on the table. “I need to get home and form an attack plan.”

“Garters and lace always worked for me.”

“I’ll try that if hobbling doesn’t work.” Will smiled one last time and left the bar without a backward glance at Hannibal.

* * *

“So,” The boy ran his hands up and down Hannibal’s chest, leaving small greasy trails on the fine material. Hannibal’s jaw clenched. “Dinner at your place tomorrow night?”

“It will be my pleasure have you at my table.”

“First we eat dinner, then each other?” 

Hannibal raised his eyebrow at the breathy whisper.

“Exactly my plan,” Hannibal carded his hand through the boy’s hair, drawing him in for a kiss. Too much tongue for Hannibal’s taste, and the boy insisted on making the most ridiculous moaning noises, but this was an annoyance he’d only have to suffer a few more times.

Hannibal waited for his date to leave the bar before producing a handkerchief, wiping at the flecks of glitter that had embedded themselves into his flesh. What on earth did that child put in his hair? He contemplated the empty glass in front of him when a hand gripped his shoulder.

“Ok, I’d say that your Will is about one more date away from punching that boy you’re toying with and jumping you.” The dark haired woman slid into the booth beside him. Hannibal noted the press of her body with a slight smirk.

“So, you do believe Will has genuine affections for me?”

“I believe when you two come together, the neighbors are going to move.”

Hannibal allowed his face to stretch into a delighted smile.

“You’ve been an indispensable resource, Alejandra. I thank you.”

She shrugged.

“What can I say? I believe in true love. Especially when someone is willing to pay me thousands to get it.”

“A trifle if it secures me his heart.”

Alejandra offered him a genuine smile and nudged the doctor with her shoulder.

“You could have saved yourself some cash if you had just said that to him.”

“Direct communication has never been our way.” 

“My bank account thanks you.” Alejandra lofted her drink in a toast, before draining it.

“May I get you another drink before I abscond to my hotel room?”

“You may! Unless you want to move the party to your room, celebrate your last night as a single man?”

Hannibal turned to Alejandra and smiled.


	3. It's Not Stalking If You Live There

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will makes a move. Not the one Hannibal was expecting.

Will was about 90% sure the marmalade bush was trying to kill him. He had crawled into it about 30 minutes after he had pretended to leave the house, and so far the shrub’s dry branches had scratched and clawed viciously at his arms and legs. Though the bush was far from a comfortable perch, it afforded him good cover and a clear view of the dining room.

When Hannibal surprised Will with a fishing trip, the empath knew something was up. He swallowed his anger and thanked Hannibal for the trip on the charter boat. He packed his bags, drove the car a mile down the road, ditched it, and snuck back to the house.

Now, he was watching Hannibal set the table for his date. Minutely adjusting a fork and folding a napkin, Hannibal was in his element. The fetus might have convinced Hannibal to go with a more casual look – Hannibal wasn’t even wearing a waistcoat with his suit tonight – but his fussy cannibal still loved a formal table setting. Will almost fell out of the bush when he saw the centerpiece: A selection of ripe local fruit was piled around what looked to be an antelope skull.

_When the fuck did he order an antelope skull? He is such a fucking weirdo._

Will’s breath caught when he heard a car pull up. He turned his head, trying not to shake the bush. There was the fetus, getting out of a BMW that his last sugar daddy no doubt bought him. The boy took a few moments after he parked the car to check himself in the mirror, adjusting a few curls and pouting his lips.

_What a pathetic little bastard._

A group of blossoms hit Will in the face.

* * *

When Hannibal led his paramour into the dining room, the boy flopped in a chair and grabbed Hannibal by the tie, reeling him in. He said something that made Hannibal laugh and Will felt his fingers crush a bundle of blooms in the marmalade bush.

Their kiss was sloppy, the kid didn’t know what to do with his tongue, so he just shoved the whole of it into Hannibal’s mouth. Will noted with some satisfaction that Hannibal seemed to pull away from the attention, leaving the young man to cling to Hannibal’s shoulders and hold him in place.

This kiss broke and Hannibal used a firm hand to keep his date in his seat. He leaned down and whispered to the boy, who blushed and stole another tongue-heavy kiss. As Hannibal left the room – no doubt to plate some elaborate gourmet creation that this child couldn’t spell or appreciate – the little bastard slapped Hannibal’s ass.

Will snapped a branch in his hand.

The young man didn’t stay put. The moment Hannibal was out of the room, the kid left his chair and began examining the objets d'art on the small side table. He slipped a silver spoon into his pocket.

_He’s fucking casing the place. I should let him steal all of Hannibal’s weird shit, it would serve him right. Hope the little bastard takes that fucking fertility statue._

As if the fetus could read minds, he headed toward the black stone statue, picking it up by its prominent dick and laughing. Will let the rage wash over him. He hated that statue, he had dropped it three times hoping to break it. But if that little shit thought for one moment that he was going to come into their home, take their hideous statue, and fuck his beautiful cannibal…

Will sprung from the bush, ignoring the branches that slashed at his skin and snagged his clothes. Running to the dining room’s side door, he threw it open, startling the young man.

“You need to put down that ugly fucking statue and leave.” Will was proud of how controlled and calm he sounded.

“Who the fuck are you?” Up close, the boy looked older, maybe mid-20s. Still too fucking young for Hannibal, but not quite as horrifying. Will seethed at the interloper.

“I live with Leo.” Technically the truth, though it took Will a few seconds to remember Hannibal’s alias. “Who the fuck are you?”

“Leo’s boyfriend, Paul.” The moment Paul smirked at him and sank back into his seat, Will knew Paul wasn’t going to leave their home breathing. He walked around the table to loom over his rival.

“Leo doesn’t have a boyfriend.” Will leaned in, crowding Paul. “He has a husband.”

Also technically the truth, if Paul checked their fake passports. 

“He may have a husband, but trust me, Leo and I aren’t pen pals.” Paul plucked a sprig of marmalade flowers from Will’s hair. He tapped the piece of flora against the scar on Will’s cheek. “From the looks of it, he upgraded to a fresher model. One with less wear and tear.”

Will wasn’t sure how the antelope skull got in his hand, but the sickening crack of the bone connecting to Paul’s head shook him from his reverie. The impact sent Paul reeling to the floor, silverware clattering around him. One of Hannibal’s bone china plates shattered near Paul’s elbow, sending Will further into his rage. Hannibal loved those plates and this little shit had ruined the set.

Will leaped upon the prone boy, antelope skull still firmly in his hand. He drove the horn into Paul’s chest. The force of the impact sheared the horn off at the skull. Will tossed the useless head and snatched at the end of the horn, driving it into Paul over and over again.

He didn’t hear the squeaking as Hannibal approached, clad in his plastic suit.

“Will.”

The empath turned, but his vision was white hot and his ears rang. He sneered at the vague shape of Hannibal before plunging the horn back into Paul.

“You think you can just ignore me? Trade up for a prettier version and leave me with an empty house and leftovers? You think anyone will understand you like me? Kill like me?” Will keeps stabbing. He was incapable of stopping his body or the words. “Some smooth-faced boy who’s young enough to be your son, that’s who you want? Blue eyes and brown curls? Aren’t you a psychiatrist? Don’t you see how pathetic and cliché that is? He could be my fucking brother, Hannibal.”

“Will!” Hannibal’s tone finally halted Will’s frantic jabs at the body. Will couldn’t see anymore, his face and chest soaked with blood, his curls dripping. He was stabbing on instinct and pure, blind hate. But the limp body was a poor vessel for his rage and soon he felt the bloodlust seeping out of him, running down his body like the rivulets of blood on his cheeks. He swiped at his face and looked at Hannibal, the enormity of what he had done and said washed over Will. 

Hannibal leaned against the dining room table.

“I take it you didn’t want to go fishing.”


	4. When the Mood Strikes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal figure a few things out.   
> _Look at the tags before you read, guys._

“I…I’m sorry Hannibal. I couldn’t…I didn’t want to,” Will looked at the body on the floor and shook his head: Lies. He had wanted to. He had never wanted to more in his fucking life. Still, his brain churned, trying to think of a way to make this better.

Will kept his eyes low and body bowed, if there was going to be a reprisal from Hannibal, Will wouldn’t fight it. A squeak finally drew the empath’s attention. Will’s eyes landed on the shiny plastic murder suit engulfing the man he loved.

“Wait. Why are you in that? Were… were you going to kill him?”

“I was intending to use his heart for a dish I wanted to serve you,” Hannibal’s face was as impassive as ever. “But it seems the meat may be compromised at this point.”

“Jesus, you’re not even killing with me anymore?” This was too much, Will would rather be gutted again.

“I wanted to surprise you with this dish. A metaphoric duo of hearts, his and mine.”

“If you think I want to eat your cheap little boy toys,” Will sneered, stabbing Paul’s corpse again out of sheer spite. Then Hannibal’s words echoed in his calming brain. Will’s head snapped up. “Duo?”

“Yes.” Something small tightened in Hannibal’s jaw, enough that Will could sense the cannibal’s discomfort.

“As in two.”

“That is the accepted definition.”

“As in yours?”

“Yes,” Hannibal’s eyes were unsure, his posture was getting rigid. “And the boy toy.”

Will’s neck and head began to tingle. Anticipation flooded his chest and he felt drunk. This was happening, and it was going to happen right on Hannibal’s fancy fucking table while his rival’s dead eyes watched. Will stood, Paul’s body all but forgotten as he stalked toward Hannibal. He kept the horn clutched in one hand, a promise or a threat - Will wasn’t sure which.

“I want you to think about this Hannibal, because if you offer me your heart again I’m going to take it. And I’ll eat it before I give it back.”

“It is yours, as it always has been.” The charge was back in Hannibal’s eyes. Will could feel the humming of electricity behind his own baby blues.

“Good.” Will tossed the horn on Paul’s gaping chest wounds, grabbed a fistful of Hannibal’s plastic suit, and yanked him close. “Now, let’s talk about who gets the rest of you.”

The kiss, when it came, was brutal. Will wanted to gnaw the taste of the interloper off of Hannibal’s lips, leaving his cannibal only the flesh Will had claimed. Hannibal submitted to Will’s mouth, content to offer himself for consumption. When Will pulled back for breath, Hannibal surged forward, licking clean trails along the empath’s bloody cheeks.

The doctor’s fingers tangled in Will’s flannel shirt, making a squishing sound as blood wrung from the fabric. With a fierce tug, the shirt vanished in a hail of buttons, Will desperately wrenching his arms out of the wet sleeves. Hannibal latched onto Will’s exposed collarbone, rusty with blood and heaving with exertion. He bit and sucked while Will loosed an inhuman noise and shoved Hannibal onto the table. 

“Still.” It was a tone Will had only used on his pack, but it has the desired effect. Hannibal froze, his eyes hooded in the low light. Will loomed over Hannibal before ducking down to bite the zipper on the plastic suit. The empath slid down Hannibal’s body at an excruciating pace, the zipper releasing tooth by tooth.

Will could feel Hannibal’s muscles trembling under his attentions. Now faced with 80 layers of fabric and a cock that was wholly uninterested in taking anything else slow, Will did the only thing he could: He rended every scrap of fabric that stood between him and Hannibal’s flesh. 

At the first ripping sound, Hannibal’s face shed the dazed expression and he opened his mouth. Will jabbed a finger in the cannibal’s face.

“One word about thread count or Italian silk and I swear to Christ I’ll just go jerk off.”

Hannibal met Will’s eyes and bit the empath’s chastising finger, just enough to send a jolt straight to Will’s cock. The doctor released his teeth and began to suck on the digit while Will focused on the throbbing sensation that echoed from his forefinger to his dick.

_Jesus Graham, get your hand out of his mouth before you come in your fucking pants._

Will yanked his finger away and tore the rest of the clothes from Hannibal’s body. Buttons and frayed threads rained down upon the dining room. Hannibal was still allowing himself to be tugged and bared at Will’s whim. After a brief struggle with Hannibal’s belt, which would not be torn no matter how Will tried, the doctor was naked.

Taking a minute to examine Hannibal, Will ran his fingertips on a lazy circuit across Hannibal’s lips, down the column of his throat, through the nest of chest hair, over the shuddering stomach, and finally to the crease in his hip and back up. He drew the very tip of his finger up Hannibal’s hard cock, circling the uncut head lightly. Hannibal didn’t move. Will toyed with the delicate foreskin, pushing it back and exposing the glistening head. Will’s fingers caught the subtle shiver that ran through Hannibal’s body when the empath licked his lips. 

Winking, Will lunged forward, grabbing Hannibal’s hips. He flipped the cannibal around, bending him over the table. He raked a hand down Hannibal’s back, nails catching on the Verger crest that withered the doctor’s skin. 

“I have dreamed about this for weeks. Now, keep your hands on the table or I stop. Understood?”

“Yes, Will.”

He found Hannibal’s composure irritating. Still, he dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to the swell of Hannibal’s ass. The doctor’s breath hitched when Will bit down, leaving a purpling mark on the left ass cheek. Grabbing handfuls of the plush flesh and exposing Hannibal, Will took a deep breath before flicking his tongue gently over the tight pink hole he found. Hannibal made a choking noise, it was the most beautiful thing Will had ever heard.

Flattening his tongue, Will laved at Hannibal’s ass. Languidly traveling every inch of flesh from Hannibal’s balls to his lower back with his mouth, Will relished every little noise he tongued out of the cannibal. When he pressed his tongue to the hole in a firm lick, Hannibal whimpered. Will increased the pace, pushing his tongue to flick at the rim and occasionally plunging inside. Hannibal started rolling his hips into Will’s face, his cock dragging against the table.

Judging by the pathetic keening and involuntary movements, Hannibal wasn’t going to last much longer. Will pulled back.

Will was panting, hands kneading Hannibal’s ass. He needed lube, and he needed it fucking now. He looked desperately around the table, eyes falling on two bottles. 

“I don’t suppose wine or olive oil will work, will they?”

Hannibal was still rolling his hips under Will, hands clawing at the table.

“Hannibal!” Will slapped Hannibal’s ass to draw his attention. To his utter delight the firm flesh jiggled slightly around his fingers. Hannibal’s head snapped up and he looked over his shoulder, dazed but coming back to himself. Will smiled, allowing himself a little thrill of self-satisfaction for leaving his cannibal so overcome.

“Lube, Hannibal. I need lube. Can I use the stuff on the table?” Will rubbed small circles on the base of Hannibal’s ass, thumb grazing between his spread legs to tease the balls that hung heavy between the doctor’s thighs.

“Those-” Hannibal’s voice caught as Will nipped at the swell of his ass. “They would not be good options. I believe there are the necessary supplies in my bedroom.”

The lost, breathy quality of Hannibal’s voice made Will shiver. He didn’t want to move Hannibal, he was loathe to give the cannibal a chance to recover his composure, even for a soft bed and easily available materials. 

_Maybe I could just run upstairs and get it? How fast can I sprint with a hard-on? I was pretty fast when Lucy Bowman’s father found us after homecoming…fuck._

He bent and swiped at Hannibal’s hole with his tongue, just to hear the doctor’s breath quake. Something in the corner of his eye caught Will’s attention. He slapped Hannibal’s ass again.

“Don’t move,” Will got to his feet, pants pressing painfully on his throbbing cock. “And stop rubbing yourself on the table like a goddamn teenager, if you come before I get back you will be sorry.”

Will walked toward Paul’s prone body and knelt. He dug through the pockets of the dead man with an intent expression. He was aware that Hannibal had turned to watch him, clearly curious as to the empath’s newly found interest in the body.

Come on, help me out here, Paul.

When his fingers alighted on what he was looking for, Will offered Hannibal a huge grin. The empath could have kissed the rapidly cooling corpse. He held up a string of four condoms and a few packets of lube.

“Ooooh! They’re flavored!” Will shook the condoms at the cannibal. Hannibal snarled at Will’s words, making the empath laugh at how mortally offended the man could look while laid out naked among the fruit on their dining room table. Will stood, taking a moment to pat Paul on the shoulder. “Thanks buddy.”

Will tossed his prizes next to Hannibal, bent to briefly nip at the doctor’s shoulder, before stepping back to finally rid himself of his pants. Placing one hand on Hannibal’s shoulder, Will took some time to pet and grope his love until a subtle tremor ran down the doctor’s spine. Hannibal caught Will’s hand as he reached for one of the lube packets.

“Would you like me to talk you through the process of-”

“I don’t need a lecture, Hannibal. I know what I’m doing.”

“You’ve been with a man before?”

Will smiled at the note of sadness in Hannibal’s voice.

“Of course, why do you think Jack always wanted me to travel with him?”

Hannibal’s whole body went rigid. He shrugged off the empath’s hand and started to push himself up from the table. Will grabbed the back of the doctor’s neck and pressed him back onto the glossy wood. He covered Hannibal with his whole body, grinding his cock into the cleft of Hannibal’s ass.

“You know, straight couples are allowed to have anal sex too, you drama queen.” Hannibal stopped resisting Will’s weight. “You’re the first and only man I’m ever going to be with. That is, if you still want to do this.”

“Teasing me is a dangerous game, Will.”

“Well then, let me soothe your ego, doctor.”

Will bent forward to snag the lube and press a kiss to the corner of Hannibal’s mouth. He poured the contents of a packet into his palm, rubbing his hands together to warm the lube. Molly had given him hell the first time he shoved a cold finger at her and he doubted Hannibal would be any less exacting. 

Running his slick hand along the cleft of Hannibal’s ass, he pressed the tip of his finger into Hannibal’s hole on every down stroke. When he finally pressed his index finger into Hannibal, Will noted that the doctor had started rolling his hips against the table again. Will withdrew his hand, earning a whimper from the body below him.

“Tsk, tsk – me or the table, Dr. Lecter, I won’t share you anymore.” 

Hannibal stilled, the muscles in his back rippling. Will leaned forward, pressing the finger back in.

“Good boy,” He whispered into Hannibal’s ear, adding more lube and a second finger. He moved back, watching his hand as he stretched Hannibal. He knew better than to rush this, but Will was feeling desperate. To distract himself from the heavy need pressing in his groin, he focused on Hannibal’s face. Cracks were starting to form in the cannibal’s person suit, he was panting heavily, and subtly meeting every thrust of Will’s hand.

Inserting a third finger, the empath focused on the stretch and trying to bring Hannibal back to the writhing desperation that Will had tongued out of him. When Will brushed the doctor’s prostate, Hannibal’s lip twitched into a small snarl. Will started a random pattern, purposely missing Hannibal’s prostate until the cannibal was furiously meeting Will’s fingers, angling urgently trying to guide Will’s fingers where he wanted them. 

“I’m sorry, you did tell me it wasn’t nice to tease,” Will pushed onto Hannibal’s prostate hard. The doctor keened and clawed the table. “You feeling ready?”

“Please, Will,” The words were barely audible over Hannibal’s heaving breaths.

“I’ve got you.”

Will pulled his hand out of Hannibal and grabbed a condom. He noted that it was orange flavored as he tore into the packet. It smelled chemical and horrible, but hopefully Hannibal was too far gone to be put off. Rolling on the condom and spreading the last of the lube on his dick, Will pushed the tip of his cock into Hannibal. The press was tight, but yielding and Will thought he would never feel anything so beautiful again.

When he bottomed out, Will leaned forward, rubbing a soothing hand over the Verger brand and mouthing at Hannibal’s shoulder.

_Come on Graham, don’t you dare lose it now. Think about baseball or Chilton, something._

A small noise snapped Will out of his reverie. Hannibal was whining and bucking his hips, trying to fuck himself on Will’s throbbing cock.

_Fuck it._

Snapping his hips violently, Will began a brutal pace that drew out the most beautiful, pleased sounds from the man below him. Fingers digging into the doctor’s side Will angled himself toward Hannibal’s prostate, feeling a burst of pride when Hannibal’s wail indicated he’d hit home. Wrapping his still slick hand around Hannibal’s cock, Will began to pump the doctor at a furious pace.

Hannibal’s arms stretched out in front of him, nails digging into the finish of the table. He pulled his back into a deep arch, ass lifting up to meet Will’s frantic thrusts. The empath’s mind was going fuzzy, each press into Hannibal caused white to creep around the edges of his vision. Sweat dripped from his curls and ran in rivulets from his forehead to his mouth. Will could taste blood and salt. He tugged on Hannibal’s cock, squeezing at the head making Hannibal come with a cry. Release pulsed over Will’s hand as Hannibal clenched around the empath. 

It was too much, too good.

Will’s body piked forward as he came, fingers digging into Hannibal’s side. He collapsed on top of Hannibal, mouthing lazily behind the doctor’s ear. Hannibal’s breathing had just begun to even as Will pulled out with a grunt, pressing a biting kiss onto the Verger brand. He took a moment to remove and tie off the condom, tossing it on the floor. The carpet would have to be replaced anyway.

“The next time we do this, it will be in a bed,” Hannibal said, rolling to sprawl among the remnants of his centerpiece.

“Give me 45 minutes and we can try that,” muttered Will as climbed on the table to nestle next to Hannibal. He reached across Hannibal and snatched the remaining condoms. “Would you prefer round two to taste like strawberry, banana, or orange again?”

“Will, my love for you is consuming and fierce, but I will break every bone in your body if you do not dispose of those loathsome chemical abominations this instant.”

“Love, huh?” Will dropped the condoms and turned his attention to carding his fingers through Hannibal’s sweaty hair.

“Of course.” Hannibal’s tone was gentle, but sure. Will felt his chest clench and he ducked forward to capture Hannibal’s mouth in a soft, sweet kiss.

“You just love me because I’m a great lay.” Will teased nuzzling his nose into the soft graying thatch of hair on Hannibal’s chest. Hannibal laughed and sunk a hand into Will’s curls. His fingers emerged holding a small cluster or orange marmalade bush blossoms, dappled red with blood. 

“That, and you bring me flowers.”

**Author's Note:**

> And yeah, the title is taken from a song in My Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, which everyone should be watching. Don't make me tell you again about this show, people.


End file.
